Morning Light
by levines
Summary: Post-Mockingjay just before the epilogue. How on earth did Peeta ever convince Katniss to have kids, anyway? And what happens when an unexpected leader rises from the ashes? "I think you should just find someone else to have babies with."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A big thanks to all who reviewed _From the Ashes_! It was my first HG fic and I'm glad it got such good responses. :) I'm not sure if this story will be a one-shot, or just some sort of drabble that I continue on. Warning: I love fluff!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG series or characters. **

It had taken him 5, 10, almost 15 years to convince me that we should have kids. I was determined, even after all that had happened, that they would have the same outcome that I had in my childhood. They would be reaped and forced to play in the Capitol's cruel games. That the Capitol really didn't burn with Snow, and they were waiting for me to have a child so they could take him or her back into their slimy hands.

Well, I wasn't going to allow it. Peeta's growing frustration with me became more evident day by day. He loved children. He loved their small stubby fingers and toes, and their big eyes and the fact that as parents, we could mold them into whatever we wanted them to be. The thought was terrifying.

"The games are over," Peeta reminded me for the millionth time today. "Kids are much safer now. You've seen Gale; Zinnia and Camille are perfectly fine- they're almost of age and haven't been touched!"

I roll my eyes. Stupid Gale. Of course nothing could harm him, he was safe in District I-blow-everything-in-my-path-up-first-so-nothing-can-destroy-me.

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?" I mumble, shooting a glare at Peeta. This only seems to fuel his fire.

"Well, no. But I will stop asking you." He shines me a toothy grin that reminds me of the boy that wasn't hijacked; the one who has a way with words and can turn ugly colors into beautiful masterpieces.

"I think you should just find someone else to have babies with." I state matter-of-factly, trying to avoid his gaze. But Peeta just laughs.

"Yes, let me just run outside and scream across town that I need someone to marry and give birth to my children."

"I'm sure you would have plenty of suitors."

"Oh yes, they'd come _running_ to my aid."

"A chance for a girl to be with you? They'd be _sprinting_, my dear Peet."

"Well, too bad I'm emotionally damaged and hijacked so no girl will ever want me. Guess I have the Capitol to thank for that." It was rare that Peeta ever mentioned the Capitol, especially after it had been so many years. Generally the topic of Prim, Gale, and Snow were kept at bay. But since he brought it up, it must be important. So I took the bait.

"Fine. I guess…" I sigh deeply and cross my arms over my chest, "I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if we…" I pause for a moment, trying to find the exact word, "…tried."

Peeta's eyes light up and the next thing I know I'm in his arms, and he's twirling me around the living room. "I knew you'd come around sometime!" He exclaims happily, and the pure joy on his face reassures me that I've made the right decision.

"Hey, I only said we'd try. That doesn't mean it'll actually happen!" I remind him, even though I can't help the small giggle that escapes my mouth from finally feeling a small hint of normalcy and happiness within me. This must be how people at the Capitol felt when they had children. Unharmed, worry-free, and completely ecstatic.

"Oh, it'll happen." Peeta says, setting me down on my feet and gently kissing my neck.

"Oh really?" I ask him, trying not to lean into his lips. "And what makes you so confident?"

"Well, for starters, you're not leaving the bedroom until I say so." I laugh at his words, rolling my eyes but loving every second of it. I enjoy Peeta's forcefulness, even if it isn't very often. It reminds me that while he may be the gentlest to me, sometimes I need a little fire in my life to make things interesting.

"What if I get hungry?" I ask, mocking him slightly.

"Too bad. I can distract you with other things."

And before I can say another word, he's whisked me off my feet and headed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him with his foot and pushing us both onto the bed.

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ahhhh! That last chapter got such awesome feedback, I'm glad you guys are enjoying it! I have a rough outline of where I think I want this story to go…so I'm thinking there will be a few more chapters (provided I can keep up with the story while school is going). Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own THG series or its' characters.**

To my high annoyance, Peeta had been right. It hadn't taken long for me to get pregnant at all. Which is not surprising, considering that every second we were ever alone, I found myself in our bedroom. He was relentless. And I almost, _almost_, admired him for being so committed. If the end result wasn't us having a baby.

It took a few months until I realized something was happening inside me. My body was no longer my own. And dare I say it, I felt a little, well…hijacked. Peeta was ecstatic. Constantly talking to every person he could about whether we were going to have a girl or boy. Camera crews were back into our home, filming our "happy ending" for all of Panem to see. Although, of course, it was never required to watch, the citizens enjoying watching other people's lives on tv. What a strange concept.

I was still reluctant, and constantly woke up with nightmares, sweat rolling down my face, and my heart pounding furiously. I dreamt of dead children and a relapse in the Hunger Games. I am only soothed by the gentle kicking in my stomach, letting me know whatever was inside of me is still there. But I still felt apprehensive.

"Gale's dropping by tomorrow." Peeta's statement draws me out of my thoughts.

"What? Why?" Gale never came to District 12. It was like everything here reminded him of a time he never wanted to remember again. It really wasn't so bad here anymore, most of the town was put back together and a lot of people had returned back and built more homes. It was actually starting to feel a little like home again.

"He wants to see you," Peeta says wrapping his arms around me and feathering a gentle kiss on my stomach, "And check on the baby."

"Oh, so now that I'm pregnant he graces me with his presence?" I ask, outwardly annoyed. Gale was the one person I thought would always be a constant in my life. Instead he moved to stupid District 2 designing more military bombs and ways to blow people up. Oh, right, he "doesn't do that anymore" now that the war is over. Sure.

"He just wants to make sure you're okay and healthy."

"And he couldn't have done that 15 years ago?" I snap back at him, while Peeta merely sighs.

"Look, you can ask him all sorts of questions when he comes, but just remember: him moving to district 2 was just as hard for him as you moving here."

I scoff, holding back a laugh, "Right. He's got 2 kids and a pretty wife. He's had some real difficulties."

"You know that's not what I mean, Katniss." After all these years, Peeta still doesn't have a nickname for me. It's always Katniss. Sometimes "dear" or "honey", but never anything else. Just Katniss. I think I prefer it that way, though. It doesn't force me to call him something else. It's comfortable, that's how things with us have always been.

It's close to 6 in the afternoon when Gale makes his star appearance. Peeta opens the door, welcoming him warmly and I sit in our most comfortable chair, soaking him in from head to toe.

He's still tall and muscular; though his face has warn down considerably. He's still ruggedly handsome and his eyes pierce into me as fiercely as they always have. His hair is still that dirty brown color that can disappear into the trees at a moment's notice, but still, there's something about him that's not quite the same.

"Catnip," He says warmly, smiling at me. Before I can answer, or even think of something to say, two curly brown-haired girls with freckles painting their faces peer behind his legs. They looked to be about 4 and 7 years old. "These are my two daughters Zinnia and Camille."

I had heard of them, of course, Peeta had told me all about them. Leave it to Peeta to keep in touch with everyone I hate. But to see them in person is a huge reality check. It was as if Gale wasn't the boy I had known my entire life. He was different now; he had a family. Other priorities. An entire life of which I had no place in.

I manage a smile as Peeta warmly entertains the children and lets them feel more at home. He's good at that kind of stuff. Gale plops down on the couch a few feet away from me, eyeing me closely.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this quiet unless we're hunting." He comments, suctioning me out of my thoughts.

"People change." I say softly, meeting his gaze. I had imagined this conversation so many times in my head- if I would get mad, the things I would say to him, how angry I would be with him. But instead I am hollow. I have no feelings. I am emotionless, like I have been since Prim died. Gale seems to easily bring out this side of me.

"Congratulations on the baby, you two must be so excited." Gale says, more to Peeta than myself. I see Peeta's smile considerably grow at the thought of the thing maturing in my stomach. "Zinnia and Camille are the best things that have ever happened to me."

"Really?" I ask him, though more rhetorically than genuine interest. "Seems to me like the best thing that ever happened to you was leaving me."

Peete senses the tension in the room and turns to Zinnia and Camille, asking if they want any food or candy from the kitchen. They both eagerly say yes, and the second Peeta is out of earshot, Gale pounces.

"You're angry." He says. I resist the urge to punch him in the face at his quite obvious observation. "It's a little hypocritical of you, don't you think? You're angry at me for never contacting you, yet you never bothered to see me."

"You killed my sister, Gale. Why would I want to see you?"

"You don't know that, Katniss. There's been no proof of that."

"Well it was your bomb, wasn't it?"

"That doesn't mean I authorized them to use it."

"You still _created_ it, it's the same thing. Is this really how you wanted your life to be? Having kids and working on military explosives? I always thought you were better than that."

Gale laughs, and the sheer noise sends shivers up my spine. "You're one to talk! You've got a baby growing inside you and you're married to Peeta. Is this really how you wanted _your_ life to be?"

"Oh please, Gale, you know that I had no choice in being with Peeta the second I volunteered. Especially when you go off killing my sister, making it almost impossible for me to look at you!"

"You honestly want me to believe that if I hadn't killed Prim, you would have chosen me? Every living thing across Panem knew that I never stood a chance with you!"

"Only because you made it that way! You turned into some sort of monster that didn't care about killing innocent people!"

"It was a _war_, Katniss! People die!"

"Not if you can help it! A child of the Capitol is not an enemy. They had no control over the Games, just like Prim had no control over getting reaped!"

"Why are we talking about this? This happened 15 years ago, if you haven't gotten over it now, you never will."

"Of course I can't get over it, Gale! She was my sister; you were supposed to be my best friend. I trusted you with her."

Gale sighs and rubs his hands over his face. I'm sure that even though the kids are in the kitchen, they have heard every word. "I'm sorry that I let you down, Katniss. I never stood a chance against such a perfect guy like Peeta. Zin? Camille? Come on, we're leaving." He calls to the girls and after a few minutes, they get to Gale and all three walk out the door.

"So much for taking it easy on him, huh?" Peeta asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I shrug him off my back, tears streaming down my face and shake my head.

"He didn't deserve for me to be easy on him." And without another word, I walk upstairs and slam the bedroom door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! Sorry this took longer than usual, school is picking up and I have midterms in a few weeks. Enjoy this little tidbit!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG and their characters blah blah blah.**

The months fly by quicker than I can even count them. It seems as though the world has a mind of its' own, and wants my baby to come out faster than ever. A few weeks before the thing is supposed to come out of me, I find myself wandering over to Haymitch's house.

I open the door slowly, and am immediately overtaken by the stench of alcohol and bile filling my nose. My instant reflex is to gag but I hold it back, looking around the home. It's the same as it always has been, though far more messy. There is no one to take after Haymitch or to check in on him; though Peeta stops by from time to time to make sure he's still alive. Even after the war and the games have long ended, Haymitch can't seem to shake the constant need to drink alcohol. My assumption is that he's doing it to drown the memories. Can you really blame him?

"Haymitch?" I call out his name, once, hoping to hear any sort of muffled sound or groan. What I do hear, however, hardly sounds like the man who saved my life. I find him hunched in a corner, his right hand clutching a wine bottle and his eyes closed tightly. "Haymitch? It's me, Katniss." After shaking him a few times, he seems to snap out of a trance and wearily opens his eyes.

"Katniss?" He blinks a few times, "Wow, you've really packed on the pounds since I last saw you."

"Ha ha." I say, rolling my eyes, "It's all thanks to Peeta's baby."

"Peeta's baby? So you had no part in it? That must have been quite the scene, Peeta making love to himself…"

I slap Haymitch on the arm, but am unable to stop the chuckle that comes out of my mouth. Haymitch's dry and often inappropriate sense of humor is what makes him so enjoyable.

"Oh, stop it. I was just teasing, the baby is just as much mine as it is Peeta's." Haymitch nods and I help him up slowly; he grasps his head for a moment and then squeezes his eyes shut. "How about I go put on some tea while you take a shower?" I suggest, hoping the warm water will help calm him and provide some clarity.

Haymitch nods, "Sounds good, sweetheart."

When he returns he resembles a little bit more of a man, though his scrawny figure symbols to me that I am losing him even more to the alcohol. It seems like each day the quantity in which he consumes the deadly poison is more than the last. I frown, thinking of how much the thought concerns me.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He asks, plopping down on the couch and snagging a cookie Greasy Sae left him a few days ago.

"I wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing." I say, drinking a sip of the cup of tea I also made myself.

"I'm great, doing exactly how I was the last dozen times you and bread boy checked up on me. What else did you come here for?"

"Can't I just come by to check on you?"

"No." Haymitch states simply, and the pure sarcasm in his voice makes me scowl.

"You make it impossible for anyone to be nice to you." I say, although I'm sure this is of no surprise to him. Proving my assumption, he just laughs.

"I don't want anyone to be nice to me. Well then, come on. What did you come here for?"

"Well, I…er-" I don't really know how to start. How do I ask him something that has so much meaning? Do I trust someone who drinks all the time to take care of another person's life?

"Spit it out. I'm getting impatient." Haymitch pops another cookie into his mouth and I sigh, deciding that asking him is the quickest way to get it over with.

"I was wondering…if, well, would you consider being my child's Godfather?"

Haymitch snaps his head up, his eyes wide in shock as if he's scrutinizing me. He studies my face and then narrows his eyes. "Is this a joke?"

I shake my head, indicating no. "I've actually been thinking about this for a while. You're the only person I trust with my life, Haymitch. You got Peeta and I out of not only one Hunger Games, but _two_. You saved my life multiple times and you always know what's best for me. If something were to happen to Peeta or myself, I would hands down want you to be the person who takes care of my child." I pause, waiting for Haymitch to digest the information. "Do you accept?" I ask quietly, almost waiting for him to object.

"Taking care of a child is a big responsibility." Haymitch says softly, his eyes now averted.

"I know, but I trust you. I know you would raise it with good intentions and you would always protect it. That's more than I can ask for."

"Are you sure I'm the type of person you want to have this kind of responsibility? Why not ask someone like Gale- he already has two kids of his own, I'm sure he'd be better off with your child than me."

I scoff, grinding my teeth slightly. "Gale is the last person I want looking over my kids." I say, with enough finality that Haymitch doesn't question me. "Look, you can think about it if you want, I just want you to know that I would be honored if you say yes. You're the only person I truly trust, Haymitch. Especially after all that has happened."

Haymitch knows I'm referring to Gale, who killed Prim. And President Coin, who wanted to bring back the Hunger Games after we had fought so hard to destroy them. And President Snow, for whom my performance was never enough.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it. Just, please stay alive for as long as you can, okay? I really have no desire to be changing diapers all day."

I grin, and jump up to give him a hug. "Thank you, Haymitch! This really does mean so much to Peeta and I. I'm sure you won't regret it." I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and head out the door, Haymitch's grumblings drowning out as I walk away from his house.

Suddenly, having Haymitch as someone to watch over my child if something happens to me makes the birthing process seem a lot easier. I'm not as nervous, and when the nurse tells me it's time to push, dear God do I push. It's only when I hear the screams of what sounds like a baby do I stop and allow myself to relax, only slightly. Peeta is standing right next to me, holding my hand the entire time. I can see the pure joy on his face as he holds our child for the first time and turns to me, beaming.

"It's a girl." He says, kissing our daughter on the forehead. I let the reality sink in. I have a daughter. Even though I swore I would never have children, never subject them to the cruel world that I grew up in, I now have a daughter. One look into those gorgeous blue eyes of hers that remind me so much of Peeta- and I know I'm hooked.

"She's perfect," I manage to squeak out, taking her from Peeta's arms and rocking her gently in my own. After a few minutes of Peeta and I adoring her and holding her tiny little hand, I turn to look at him. "Let's name her Primrose," I say, glancing back at our adorable little daughter. "Primrose Rue Mellark. But we'll call her 'Rose' for short."

Peeta genuinely grins at the name, and kisses Rose's tiny little hand. "Welcome to the world, little Rose."

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